Moral Obligation
by radpineapple
Summary: Laurel discovers something strange in her grandmother's attic.


Moral Obligation

 **A/N: This was for an English narrative we had to do for school. This isn't my usual style of writing. I'm not sure how I feel about it, but here it is anyway. This takes place in the summer of 1998. Laurel is 13 and Sara is 11.**

Every summer, Laurel's family took her out to their grandparents' house. Laurel hated visiting her grandparents' house. It wasn't the fact she never really knew her grandfather before he died, it was just where her grandparents lived that bugged her.

Laurel was a city girl. She loved the busy-ness that only a city can bring. She loved hearing the whoosh of cars, the honking horns, the soft sound of people walking on the pavement, and that din of white noise the city always provided. Laurel especially loved the city at night. She loved the view she had from her family's apartment. Every night, she'd look out at the city and all the twinkling lights and stare at the people and cars below. They always looked so small. Everyone scurried about like tiny insects on a mission. Seeing how small everything really is always reassured Laurel and reminded her how small her problems actually were.

Her grandparents' house was the exact opposite. They lived near the outskirts of the city away from the hustle and bustle that Laurel cherished. It was always too quiet and there was never anything to do. Besides, the neighborhood always creeped Laurel out. It was just too picturesque for her liking. Everything was prim and quaint. All of the houses in the neighborhood were painted in lovely pastels and flowers adorned every perfectly manicured lawn. Laurel always feared she'd find some secret basement where they were experimenting on people to find everlasting youth or a lab with people cryogenically frozen while the townspeople harvested their body parts.

Laurel sighed as she looked out the car window. They were getting closer and the building dread felt like a weight in her stomach. It only made things worse that her younger sister, Sara, had gotten sick and couldn't make it. Laurel's mom decided to stay back with Sara, so only she and her dad were visiting this year. At least if Sara had been there, they could have suffered together.

Laurel's father smoothly drove the car down the eerily perfect suburban neighborhood. Laurel looked down the road and saw her grandma sitting on the porch waiting for them. Her father pulled up into the driveway, and Laurel snatched her overnight bag and quickly opened the door.

"Hi, Grandma!" she greeted happily. Her grandma had never been the same since her grandpa died, or at least that's what her father told her. Laurel never knew her grandpa. Her dad said her grandma had become more distant and didn't speak as often as she used to since his death. It was like a part of her grandma died with her grandpa.

"Hello, Laurel," she said softly. She watched Laurel's dad lock the car and walk up to the porch, "Where's Sara and Dinah?"

Laurel looked at her dad.

He paused, and she saw his brow furrow in concern, "Sara's sick. I told you on the phone earlier."

"Oh," her grandma replied, staring blankly across the street.

"Mom," Laurel's dad said. "How long have you been out here?"

Her grandma slowly looked back at him, "Since this morning."

Her dad looked at his watch, "It's nearly four o' clock! Have you had anything to eat?"

Her grandma's gaze returned to look across the street.

"Laurel, go get your grandmother something drink from the kitchen."

Laurel nodded and went inside. The house was dark, and Laurel noticed that none of the windows were open. Dust covered every inch of the house, and it danced through the small beams of light that managed to peak through the cracks behind the curtains. Laurel easily found the kitchen and immediately brought her hand up to her nose. Something was definitely rotting.

Laurel searched the cabinets for a glass, and finally found them after her fifth attempt. She had just filled the glass when she heard her father and her grandma coming into the house.

"Why is it so dark in here?" her father's voice echoed.

"It's not that dark, Quentin," her grandmother replied.

"Yes, it is." A pause, "Mom, there is dust everywhere! You're going to have to live come with us."

"No! Your father and I bought this house together. I am not leaving it!"

They rounded the corner into the kitchen. Her grandma slowly walking into the kitchen, her arthritis apparent, while her father had his arm around her shoulders.

"I have some water for you, Grandma," Laurel said, walking over to them.

"Let your grandmother sit down first, sweetheart," her dad said. She could tell he was concerned by the way he frowned and his eyebrows came together when he looked at her grandma.

"Sorry," she apologized and waited for her father to escort her grandma to a seat. She sat down painfully. Laurel set down the glass of water in front of her grandma.

"Why don't you set up your room, Laurel? Your grandmother and I have a lot to discuss," her father said, a nervous edge biting his voice.

"Okay, Dad," she said and walked up the stairs and easily found the guest bedroom that she and her sister usually shared. It was so empty and big without her. Laurel dropped her bag on the floor and flopped on the bed. She sighed. The trip was already horrible, and she was already bored. She couldn't do this.

Laurel suddenly sat up and left the room. She'd been in this house a million times and new every inch of this place. She sighed but then realized there was one place she hadn't been to before. The one place she wasn't allowed to go. The attic.

The entrance was easy to find. It was just an outlined square panel on the ceiling. It took her a step ladder and more time than she'd like to admit to figure out how to open it. She climbed up and blinked at the darkness. Her eyes easily adjusted since her grandma's house was already dark.

Laurel looked around. The small room was filled with old furniture, cardboard boxes, and old paintings and trophies too big to fit into the boxes. This was kind of disappointing. Oh, well. At least she could look through the boxes and maybe find something worth her while.

She didn't know how long she'd been searching until she found it. It was a small dome about four feet tall covered in buttons and wires. It reminded her of the old space modules. One of the wires on the module was connected to a small, retro headset. There was a blue button on the left side. She pressed it. Nothing happened. Laurel put it on. She looked back at the module and noticed a similar button. She pushed that button. The module suddenly whirred to life, and multicolored lights blinked on. They began to blink faster and brighter until Laurel was blinded by the light.

Laurel took off the headset and blinked. The brightness had made her temporarily blind. She decided to leave. She put the headset down and stood up. Still blinking from the bright light, she made her way to the exit. She nearly missed it because it was closed. She didn't remember closing it. Maybe it had closed on its own, or her dad thought her grandma had left it open and closed it for her. Laurel opened the hatch and descended.

Laurel came to the floor and stopped. If she didn't know any better, she'd think she was in a different house. The curtains were opened, the house was clean, the step ladder was gone, and a delicious smell came from downstairs. Laurel hadn't realized how hungry she was until she smelled food. It smelled Italian, like it was some sort of pasta.

She slowly creaked down the stairs and noticed a warm glow coming from the kitchen. Had her father cleaned up the house? How long was she in the attic? She reached the end of the stairs and quietly walked into the kitchen.

A man had his back to her and was taking something out of the oven. This man was clearly not her father. They looked around the same age, but this man had blond hair. Her father's hair was brown. The man turned around. He was wearing oven mitts and carefully holding a pan of lasagna. Their eyes met, and he stopped in sudden surprise. They both looked at each other in confusion for a moment.

"Um, hello there," the man finally said, setting the pan on the table and removing the oven mitts. "What are you doing here?" his voice was warm, but he studied her with caution, eyeing her clothing.

"I'm staying here."

He raised his eyebrows, "You are?"

She nodded.

"I'm afraid there's a misunderstanding. You see, my wife and I bought this house yesterday."

Yesterday?! How long was she in the attic?!

"There's no need to worry," he immediately said, sensing her panic. He cautiously walked over to her side of the table, "What's your name?"

"Laurel."

"Well, Laurel, we'll figure out this little dilemma together, okay? I'm Jasper," he said, sticking out his hand.

Laurel shook it.

"My wife won't be here until tomorrow. We don't have a phone installed here yet, so why don't we go into town and you can call your parents. Does that sound good?"

Laurel was confused, "But my dad was just here."

"Your dad?"

"Yeah. He was taking care of my grandma. She lives here. Or lived here."

"Hmm. That is peculiar," he remarked. "Let me retrieve my coat and we can go into town and you can call your father and this will all be sorted."

Laurel nodded and watched him quickly rush out of the room. She didn't know if she could trust this strange man, but it wasn't like she had any other choice.

Jasper returned and gave her a warm smile, "Alright, Laurel, let's go find your father. The nearest store is only five minutes away." He led her outside and Laurel paused. Everything looked different. Laurel couldn't tell if it was because it was dark out, but all of the houses seemed to be different colors. The lampposts looked odd. The lights looked too long. "Laurel," Jasper's voice said, interrupting her thoughts. "You ready?"

She turned to him and her eyes caught on something behind him. He had an old, vintage car in the driveway. She looked around and noticed that everyone else had similar cars.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said walking towards the car.

Jasper unlocked it and they both got in. The ride did only take five minutes, but it felt longer since neither of them said a word. Jasper kept shooting her worried looks. Laurel inspected the world outside her window. Everything looked different, but the layout was relatively the same. They slowed down and pulled in front of a small convenience store.

"They have a phone in here," Jasper said. He opened his car door. Laurel did the same and followed him inside.

The door opened with a jangle as it hit a bell on the ceiling.

"Hey, Matthew!" Jasper greeted the clerk.

"Hey, Jasper. Weren't you just here like an hour ago?" Matthew asked, examining Laurel.

"Yeah, but I forgot something. May I use your phone?"

"Go ahead," Matthew said, gesturing to a phone in the far corner.

They walked over to the phone and Jasper handed her a few coins. She put them in the coin slot and dialed her dad's number. Apparently, his number didn't exist. She tried again. And again.

"It's not working," she said. Tears began to prickle her eyes and she angrily stared at the phone, so Jasper couldn't see.

"It's okay. It's getting late. Why don't you stay at my house for tonight?"

Laurel finally looked up to him and nodded, knowing her voice would betray her, and Jasper would know how upset she really was.

"I'm just going to call my wife to tell her what's going on. You can wait in the car. It should be unlocked."

Laurel nodded again and quickly walked towards the door. As she opened the door, another man came in. Laurel saw he was carrying a gun. She looked at it in fear and quickly walked outside, hoping the man hadn't noticed she saw his gun. She immediately went into Jasper's car and curled up in a ball in the passenger seat. Shots erupted from the store, and Laurel curled up tighter. A few seconds later the man with the gun came running past the car holding a bag. He didn't see her.

Laurel waited in the car for what felt like forever but was probably only a few minutes. She opened the car door and slowly walked back to the store. She opened the door and the jangle eerily bounced through the silent shop. She saw Matthew splayed over the counter, blood dripping down the sides of the counter and puddling on the floor. Her eyes reluctantly reached the corner of the room where the phone was. The phone dangled on its cord, and Jasper lay on the floor in a crumpled heap, his blood splattered against the back wall.

Laurel burst from the shop and ran like she had never run before. The tears flowing down her face as she tried to forget what just happened. She ran all the way back to the house. She clambered up the porch. The door was unlocked, and she flung it open and raced up the stairs. She climbed up to the attic in record time and fumbled her way through the darkened room. She shakily grabbed the headset, pressed the button, and then pressed the matching one on the module. In a matter of seconds the blinding light returned and everything stilled.

O

Her dad was too busy caring for her grandma to notice how distant she had become the next few days. She had slowly begun to think it had all been a dream until she was helping her grandma pack. Her dad had decided it was best for her grandma to live with them back in the city.

Laurel was taking pictures off the mantel. She hadn't really looked at them before. The dust and the low visibility didn't help either. She was putting all of her grandma's pictures in a box when her breath suddenly caught in her throat. It was a picture of her grandpa, grandma, and her dad in the house. She stared at the picture until her grandma noticed she had stopped moving.

"Oh, I remember that day. I bet your father does too. That was the day we bought the house," her grandma explained distantly as if she was retelling a story that happened to someone else. "The next day your grandfather was killed. Shot to death. Bullet to the brain. I was on the phone with him when it happened."

Laurel stared at the picture of Jasper lovingly embracing his family and smiling into the camera, his eyes sparkling with life.


End file.
